


Uncontrollable

by halfabagoffritos



Series: Hashtag Ohana [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfabagoffritos/pseuds/halfabagoffritos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A great many things appear to be out of Shaw's control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncontrollable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kesdax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kesdax/gifts).



> The latest kesdaxian prompt - “Ms. Shaw, will you PLEASE control your child.” 750 WORDS. ONE HOUR. GO
> 
> (Set in the same universe as Unfortunate Timing, etc.)

It’s innocent, really, even if she kinda hates it.

The kid’s enough of a flirt, even at eleven years old, that Shaw starts to wonder if she’s been hanging out with Fusco’s “professional wingman” buddy when they aren’t looking. And ever since Finch caved and had his tailor fully outfit her in the suits she’s been so desperately wanting for the past year, well… Shaw spends a lot of time giving her pistols an extra thorough cleaning. You know, just in case.

Root’s pleased as hell at the heartbreaker Ris is turning into, as well, which just serves to make Shaw groan over coffee and pancakes one night when she brings it up with a smirk.

She still can’t help the short chuckle that escapes when she catches — on one of several monitors in the subway — Ris leaning against a swingset in snow-covered Central Park, dressed impeccably as usual and murmuring in a giggly girl’s ear.

"Did you know my family saves the world? Yeah, we’re pretty much superheroes."

Of course she bugged her own kid, duh.

Shaw snorts at the lack of subtlety. Seriously, spending  _way_  too much time around Fusco in the past few months, probably.

She’s so torn between amusement and annoyance that she doesn’t hear either the girl’s blushing reply or Finch hobble up behind her until he’s practically next to her ear and barking, “Miss Shaw, will you PLEASE control your child?”

Shaw whips around in the chair, feet flying from their previous perch atop his desk. “What?” she asks. “It’s not like any of them  _believe_  her.”

Root emerges from the car, wiping her hands on a towel, as Finch leans further on the cane he now uses more often than not. “If I may, Harry?” she says with a pat on his shoulder before turning her attention to Shaw, her lips forming a wily grin. “We just need to…rein her in a bit. Teach her a less scattershot approach with her affections. Improve her focus.”

"A less— She’s eleven!" Shaw yells even though she  _knows_  Root’s being a little shit about this just to get under her skin. Some things never change. “The only thing she should be focused on is passing the sixth grade!” Root’s gaze softens in her direction and it’s all she can do to swallow the snarl that bubbles up.

Finch backs away slowly. “Perhaps it’s time Parisa had…the talk?”

"About sex?" Shaw finishes glaring at Root, then glances over at him. "Finch, we did that like two years ago. Remember all the shitty pamphlets?"

"Not that, I mean…" He leans toward them as best he can. "…Samaritan."

"How we stopped it, you mean? Pretty sure she knows that, too."

"Not for good, Miss Shaw. Not forever."

Root leans back against the desk, close to Shaw’s head. “He’s right,” she says, crossing her arms. “It’s disconnected and locked away for now, but we should always be—”

"What, vigilant?" Shaw growls. "Isn’t that what we still have Her for? She’d tell us if something happened."

"But we won’t always be able to act. Which brings me to my next point…" Finch grabs a handful of papers off his desk and holds them out to both her and Root.

Shaw takes one and gives it a quick once-over, recognizing the name almost immediately even if the picture is obviously several years older than she last remembered. “Gen?” she asks, brow furrowing. “What’s she got to do with this?” A hum from Root’s direction pulls her gaze to another sheet of paper, containing vitals on a Claire Mahoney. Shaw remembers vividly them pulling the girl’s ass from the proverbial fire. Or more to the point, she remembers putting two in Martine’s head during their escape. Shaw hands the paper back to Finch, and Root does the same. “What are you up to, Finch?”

"A training program, of sorts," he starts, setting the papers back down. "At the very least, we’ll need able bodies to keep up with the irrelevants should…anything happen to us."

Shaw cuts herself off mid-swallow. It’s not that she had never considered her own mortality. That sort of thing happened on the regular with their line of work, especially during the height of Samaritan. She knows her and Root only have a finite amount of time together, that Finch is really starting to show his age, that Reese doesn’t recover from injuries quite as fast as he used to. And it stings a little, somewhere deep and dark within. Somewhere muted. “And Ris?” she says, knowing full well what they’re about to ask her daughter — their daughter, really — to do.

Finch sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “There is perhaps no greater candidate than she.”

A sigh curls up her throat and escapes as she turns back to the monitor fixed on Ris’s current location, with that schoolgirl still hanging on every word. She distantly feels a hand settle on her shoulder and knows exactly who it belongs to. “What’s our next step?” she hears herself ask, and the world shifts.


End file.
